One year ago today, I was ten days overdue with my baby boy and ready to burst. During a checkup with my doctor, he said he was going to “strip my membranes” to move things along, and before I could so much as “whaaa?” I was officially having contractions. (Note to readers: If ever your OB threatens to “strip your membranes,” I suggest you buckle up.)
The doctor sent me away to labor at home – on the exercise ball, in the shower, while attempting to bake cookies for the nurses – and Jake finally took me to the hospital at 5:00 PM at four centimeters dialated. We’d hired a wonderful doula who tried her hardest to get me a tub room in the hospital, but those two rooms were already occupied…by women who’d ended up opting for epidurals and couldn’t leave their rooms. So I muscled forward, hanging onto Jake for several contractions and breaking water all over his shoes.
At about seven centimeters I finally
begged asked for the epidural, but it was too late – nothing could have helped me at that point. I knew the end was near when the nurses called the doctor in, which ended up being about two minutes before I gave birth. And at 11:37 PM on May 10, 2010, a gorgeous, slimy Seabass was placed in my arms and life as I knew it changed forever.
This has been the hardest year of my life, without question. In fact, I found my first grey hair last week and laughed. Of course it came this year! But it has also been my year of greatest discovery and growth. Jake and I are closer than ever to each other, and our hearts have burst open with love for this hilarious, bizarre, beautiful, new little person.
Happy birthday, you wild, untameable Seabass, you.